Stocking Stuffers
by blueashke
Summary: When you don't have enough things to fill one child's stocking and it's Christmas Eve, what can you use? Faberry cuteness and fluff.


A/N: I know it's not Christmas yet. It just wouldn't leave my head.

* * *

"Rachel, she's two. She's not going to notice that the stocking isn't precisely filled to the top. She's going to see candy canes and her new dolly and be ecstatic," Quinn said, trying to calm down her frantic wife.

"Quinn! Our daughter has already demonstrated excellent spacial awareness. She WILL notice. Not to mention, you're the one who got her one big enough that she could have fit in it when she was born." Rachel continued to rummage through her fathers' pantry.

It was nearly midnight on Christmas Eve, and between flight delays because of snow and a slight mis-communication as to who was in charge of the stocking stuffers (it was not a mis-communication, Rachel was sure; it was all Quinn's fault), the two women found themselves at a loss.

Little Timmy, at 5, had a stocking filled with miniature cars that his Uncle Puck had turned him on to earlier that year, so the lack of copious amounts of candy wouldn't really be noticed. But Krista, their beautiful blonde baby girl, still couldn't be trusted not to put everything in her mouth right off the bat. Which meant no little toys. Which Quinn DID remember and therefore not purchase. She just maybe, kinda sorta forgot the extra stuffed animals she'd bought instead... in New York.

"It's exactly the same size as Timmy's, and we only need to fill the toe up with something. Once that part is full, we can put one of the animal cracker boxes I brought for the plane in. The dolly and candy canes will at least make it look full, even if she didn't get as much stuff. You know she'll just start chowing down on them anyway," Quinn laughed softly. "Look, just grab a can of soup or something. It'll fill the toe and we can just hide it before she pulls it out."

"Lucy Quinn Berry-Fabray! I am shocked that you would think our daughter is incapable of noticing something like that. Not to mention, she deserves something she doesn't usually get. Unfortunately, my fathers don't seem to have much in the way of child-friendly bulky food items." She sighed. She really did want to give her children the best Christmas possible. This would be the first one where both of them was actually interested in something other than the paper. Though they did still love to play with their food.

"Well unless you want to fill a baggie with the Frosted Flakes I just found behind the oatmeal - your dad is gonna kill your daddy - I'm not sure what you want to give her that she doesn't get much. She'll just make a mess of canned peaches or pears..." Quinn trailed off as both women reached for the same can in the back of the pantry.

"Perfect!" they chorused together. It fit the stocking so closely that they wouldn't have to worry about Krista pulling it out and trying to open it on her own, but that just assured them that they'd get to watch her appreciation.

Now they just had to put together that damned tricycle.

* * *

Wrapping paper was spread all over the living room floor with reckless abandon. Empty toy packaging piled up mostly in one corner, but that was primarily a result of Timmy gathering all of his new toys away from his sister and opening them while she played with her new dolly. As each new present was opened, the intended recipient squealed, giggled, and was prompted through the rounds of 'thank you _ for my present'. Well, in Krista's case it was mostly a shy 'Tankoo'.

Their mothers sat on the couch watching, letting Rachel's fathers pass out the presents and 'help' open them when necessary. They were worn out from their late night stocking stuffing and tricycle assemblage and were happy to just enjoy the happy atmosphere of the house. Present time for them would come much later, after the children had gone to bed and the Berry dads had left for their yearly post-Christmas cruise.

"Um, girls?" LeRoy spoke up. "Why is there a can of olives in the bottom of Krista's stocking?" He had just upended the plush velvet stocking, barely catching the can as it slid out. "There was candy on the top shelf of the pantry you know."

"You mean the shelf that is too high for me to see what's on it, much less reach it, Daddy?" Rachel laughed as she moved to take the can from his hands. "No wonder you told me to check there when I asked you about stocking stuffers." She left the room, heading for the kitchen.

"If I want to keep it from your Dad, I have to think high up, now don't I, sweetie?" he called out. He turned back to Quinn, who still watched with a grin. "But still, why the olives?"

"Because one of Rachel's pet peeves is not letting the children play with their food. And I convinced her to not be so anal-retentive on Christmas," she answered proudly.

"I heard that, wife," Rachel retorted, reentering the room with a bowl full of the drained olives in it. "Playing with food at the dinner table is unacceptable. It's wasteful and I won't have it in my home. However, food that has been provided for the sole purpose of being played with is an entirely different matter."

"Keep telling yourself that, Rach," Quinn giggled. "Krista, love, come see what Mama has for you!"

Cobalt blue eyes shot up at the sound of her name. Krista was a roly poly little thing, with cheeks that Quinn found herself wanting to pinch all too often. Neither girl could figure out where the blue eyes had come from, but they shone with delight as the little girl abandoned her new toys in favor of toddling over to her mothers. "Mama?"

"Yes baby, look! I have olives for you. See, we can put them on your fingers like you always want to." Tiny fingers were each capped gently with an olive, causing an immediate giggle.

"Olifs! Mommy look, olifs on figgers." Krista waggled her hands around as Rachel indulgently added olives to the other hand. Suddenly the giggling stopped. "Mama... Mama but MESSY!" A telltale sparkling of the eyes warned of the potential for an imminent meltdown. "No bad, no bad Mama?"

"See, I told you that you were anal-retentive," Quinn said softly, reaching down to caress her wife's cheek as she said it to gentle the insult. "It's okay baby. It's Christmas and Mama says it's not bad today, don't you Mama?"

"There is nothing wrong with having standards, Quinn," came the retort, a grin accompanying it. "Yes baby, it's not bad today. Go ahead and play." A quick sniff and a tickle from both mothers, and the joy was returned to the face of their baby girl.

"Of course there isn't. After all, we took so many years to reach each other's high standards, now didn't we?" Quinn started to pull Rachel back up to the couch, but she overbalanced and ended up sliding off and down to the floor with a bump. Rachel promptly climbed into her lap and snuggled in.

"And look what I got because I waited so long. I got you. And we got Timmy and Krista and now we have our whole lives in front of us. Merry Christmas Quinn Berry-Fabray, I love you."

"Merry Christmas Rachel Berry-Fabray, I love you too."

"Mama! Mommy! Kiss-mas! WUV!"

End

A/N: I blame Emma for yet another little universe that doesn't have anything to do with any of my other stories. This has the potential for being expanded in other episodes, but we've seen how well I do with that so for now, it's a stand alone story. The olive thing is something my parents did for my sister and myself as children, though in our case it was a matter of money. Nearly 30 years later, the bottom of the stocking from my mother every year STILL has a can of olives in it. Though my fingers are now too small to play with them.


End file.
